Heated Introductions
by Kalysia
Summary: You are a student at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and mostly keep to yourself. When another student tries to get you to open up, how will you handle it?
1. Late Night Escapades

Title: Heated Introductions  
  
Author: Michelle  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Fandom: X-Men  
  
Spoilers: Slight X2  
  
Archive: Go for it! Currently at MVids.  
  
Feedback: It would make my day.  
  
Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: In all, open honesty, I have only ever written one other "you" fic, and it was for Pirates of the Caribbean. I thought that it would be interesting to try my hand at it here in the X-Men fandom, and I hope that you like it!  
  
Summary: You are a student at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and mostly keep to yourself. When another student tries to get you to open up, how will you handle it?

* * *

You sit on your bed, listening to the rain, as it falls outside of your window. It's calming, peaceful, serene, all three of which are great feelings for you. It hasn't been a very great day, and you really need this time to yourself.  
  
Then again, that is all that you do; spend time alone. You've been at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters for almost four years, and you have yet to make one single friend. It's not that you don't socialize; you have just never connected with anyone on a very high level. There have always been the casual 'hello's and 'goodbye's between you and some other students, and some light conversation, but that's about it. There has never been anything heavy. There has never been anyone that you just sat down and talked to, as a friend, not even the teachers. No one has ever seemed really interested, including yourself. Sure, Ms. Munroe has tried to get you to open up, but you just won't pry. All that you do is stay in your room, and write.  
  
Writing is your true talent, the one thing in life that you can always count on to be with you. Very rarely do you stumble into a case of Writer's Block, so you have no worries about losing your talent. Your latest work has been a piece of poetry, titled "When You are Not Around". It is a deep, saddenning piece, centering around the world of a woman whose boyfriend leaves her for someone else, and the woman ends up committing suicide. It is very twisted, even for your taste, but, you still love it.  
  
Glancing at your clock, you notice that it is almost eleven-thirty. Night had set fast, so fast, in fact, that you hadn't even noticed.  
  
You take a look around the room, noting the peaceful state of sleep that the other two girls are in. Your mind begins to drift to each of them, and everything that you have come to know about them. One night, when they had thought that you were asleep, you had listened to them raving about some guy. Every other word was his name, John, and they went on and on about how gorgeous he was, and how he looked at them at some point in the day, or how much he loved his lighter, whatever they could roll off of their tongues. No matter how much you wish at times that they would just stop talking, you know, deep inside, that they seem like good girls to get to know. A little boy obssessed, maybe, but good girls nonetheless.  
  
Suddenly, you feel your stomach grumbling. You had skipped dinner today, since everyone was forced to eat inside, due to the dreery weather.  
  
"_Damn rain_," you think. "_If it weren't my inspiration, I would hate it to no end_."  
  
You love the outside, when it comes to eating, and prefer to sit, how else, alone, by a large willow tree in the back of the mansion. Instead of eating, you stayed inside, and worked on your homework. Now, however, you know that it is time to get something to eat.  
  
You creep out of the room, being as careful as humanly, well, _mutantly_ possible not to make any noise. You take your time to go down the hallway, still being as quiet as you can. The stairs creak, each and every one, and you hope that no one can hear it. You wish that same thing every time that you go downstairs at night, that no one can hear you; you would hate to find out the next morning that you woke up the whole mansion in your attempt to reach your destination downstairs.  
  
As you look toward said destination, otherwise known as the kitchen, you realize that the room is alight. Seeing as you don't truly _avoid_ people all together, the idea that there is someone in the kitchen doesn't stop you. You step to the doorway, and cross the threshhold. Inside, you see a dark haired guy, about your age, raiding a pint of ice cream. You laugh a little to yourself, thinking about how everyone seems to go for junk food before other kinds of food.  
  
Your sounds are heard by the young man, and he drops his spoon onto the counter top.  
  
"Sorry," you mutter, as you make your way to the fridge. "Didn't mean to scare you." You open the refrigerator, and pull out a large container, which holds a salad mix. It's not that you are a big health food junkie; you are just in the mood for a salad tonight.  
  
"It's okay," comes the voice of the boy. "Not a big deal." He shrugs, as you close the refrigerator door.  
  
Taking a bowl from the cupboard, you place it on the counter below, and pop open the salad container. It makes a loud snapping noise, and you once again hear the sound of metal hitting the tile of the counter top. You spin around, and watch, as your fellow student picks his spoon back up, for what you suspect isn't just the second time.  
  
"You're a little jumpy, huh?" you ask, and raise an eyebrow.  
  
"No," he snaps back. His tone surprises you, and you put your hands up in a surrender pose. If he wants to be touchy, by all means, you will let him be touchy.  
  
You turn back around, and continue to work at your garden variety, and you can feel yourself under his gaze. However, you do your best to ignore him, and finally finish your salad. You return to the refrigerator, and take out some salad dressing. Turning back to the frame sitting on top of the kitchen stool, you decide to be nice.  
  
"Would you like me to make you a salad?" you offer, kindly. The boy tilts his head to one side, and looks at you.  
  
"I've got this, thanks," he says, holding up the container of ice cream.  
  
"Yeah," you agree. "However, that isn't really _food_, now, is it? I mean, it turns into liquid so fast, it's like soup."  
  
"Still just a filling as when it's solid," he responds, with a smile.  
  
"Maybe," you sigh, returning to the bowl on the counter. You pour a small amount of dressing on top of the salad, and put everything back into the refrigerator.  
  
"I haven't seen you before," he continues, after a short span of silence.  
  
"That's fitting, since I have never seen you before, either." You pull open a drawer, and take out a fork. Closing the drawer, you dip the fork into the salad, and take a bite. "_Amazing_," you think to yourself. "_I actually made something that tastes good_."  
  
"How long have you been here?"  
  
The question surprises you a little; no one has ever been curious. "Four years," you say, after swallowing. "Why?"  
  
He shrugs. "Just asking."  
  
"Oh," you mutter, taking another bite. You notice, at this point, that you are still standing. Taking a few steps toward the counter, you point to the empty stool. "Mind if I sit down?" you ask, not wanting to intrude.  
  
"Go for it." You sit, and continue to munch on your salad.  
  
The two of you spend the next few minutes in silence, and you manage to finish your snack in no time. You hadn't realized that you were that hungry, and think to yourself that you are glad that there was something good in the mansion to eat. You look at your empty bowl for a second, and begin to study the patterns left by the little trails of salad dressing, as well as by the imprints of your fork.  
  
"Something interesting in there?" you hear the boy ask. It startles you, and you jump a little, having forgotten that he was even there in the first place. "Now look who's jumpy," he smirks.  
  
You stand, paying no attention to his comment. You make your way to the sink, and rinse out your bowl. Placing it at the bottom of the sink, you turn to leave the kitchen.  
  
"Goodnight," you say, feeling happy, now that you weren't so hungry.  
  
"Night," he calls, raising his spoon. As you turn toward the stairs, you hear him calling back to you. "Hey!"  
  
You back up, and stand in the doorway of the kitchen. "Yeah?"  
  
"I never got your name," he says, through a mouth full of ice cream.  
  
"I never gave it," you smile. "It's (your name). Goodnight."  
  
As you climb the stairs, you think about the young man in the kitchen. "_Kind of cute_," you consider, not thinking too much of it. You get to your room, and open the door. Inside, your two roommates, Alexa and Verity, are up, talking.  
  
"I didn't wake you guys up, did I?" you ask, concerned that you had disturbed them.  
  
"No," Verity assures, with a smile. "We were really never asleep. We just didn't want to disturb your quiet moment before you left." She smiles again, and leans back against her pillow.  
  
"So," Alexa picks up, and you expect that it is presumeably where the two had left off on before you came into the room. "Where were you, (you)?"  
  
You raise an eyebrow, as you crawl into your bed. "_More interested people_?" you ask youself. "_What is this_?_ Some kind of conspiracy_?"  
  
You think about your options, and decide on telling the truth.  
  
"I was in the kitchen," you inform them. "I missed dinner."  
  
"We noticed," Verity laughed. "You do that whenever it rains."  
  
"Yeah," you laugh, as the sudden feeling of wanted conversation takes you into the topic at hand, as well as those that follow. For once, you are actually taking in the information about the two girls' crushes, with that John guy right at the top of the list. You smile when you answer a personal question, and laugh at the jokes, two things that you very rarely do. For once, you are having fun, just talking.  
  
When the three of you have run out of things to discuss, and the lights go out, you smile to yourself. "_Minus one little power mishap_," you think to youself, "_This day really hasn't been half bad_." You rest your head against the pillow, and close your eyes, praying that tomorrow could be even better.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, that was interesting. I hope that you enjoyed it! I await your thoughts on this chapter, and where you think that the story could go from here. Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter... 


	2. Misplaced and Recovered

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: Well, I am glad that most of you are liking this piece! Okay, I am going to let it slip here - I was begged to do a "you" fic, in another fandom, by several people that had read my last one. After completing a new chapter of _that_ piece, not to mention hitting a major case of Writer's Block, I decided to try out this one. So, in the spirit of that, I thank everyone for your kind reviews! I really do appreciate them!

* * *

The next morning, you awake to the sound of a bird, as it chirps beside your bedroom window. You roll over, putting your back to the window, and look around the room. You are surprised to see Verity and Alexa staring back at you.  
  
"It's about time that you got up," Verity says, with a yawn. You, in turn, yawn, along with Alexa.  
  
"Don't do that," you say, laughing. "It's contagious." You smile, and sit up. You lean back against your pillows, and rest your head against the headboard.  
  
"Come on," Alexa says, kicking back her blankets. "You," she pauses, looking around on the floor for something. "You are coming to breakfast with us."  
  
"_I am_?" you think to yourself. "_Since when did they get to be so friendly_?" You look from Alexa, to Verity, and bite your lower lip. "Are you serious?"  
  
"Absolutely," Verity giggles. "We were talking a few nights ago, about how you don't really get out an talk much." You can't deny that; no one has to tell you to shut up. "So, we want you to have breakfast with us today. That is, if you don't mind getting to know some of the girls along the way?"  
  
A short pause overcomes the three of you. Finally, you shrug. "I suppose not. They aren't going to think that I am intruding, are they?" You watch, as Verity shakes her head. "Okay, then. I guess you've got me."  
  
"Great!" Alexa calls, peeking her head out from behind the bathroom door. Her voice is muffled through the toothbrush that is in her mouth. "You need to get out some, mingle with everyone."  
  
"Who is 'everyone'?" you ask, suddenly feeling a little bit paranoid. You said you'd mingle, not go to your own mini coming out party.  
  
Verity looks up at the ceiling. "Let's see... Well, there's Alexa, myself, and Rogue, Kitty, Orienne, and Jubilee. Also, if you get lucky, some of the cute guys will be down there."  
  
"Just, don't go anywhere with Bobby!" Alexa warns, again from the bathroom. "He's Rogue's."  
  
You laugh, knowing that it won't come to that; guys haven't really ever been your area of comfortability. It's not that you won't give it a shot, because you plan to socialize with both genders, if you can. Since you are being invited to something, you won't be turning down _too_ many opportunities that may follow.  
  
Placing you hands up in that recently familiar surrender pose, you reassure everyone. "I am officially a touch-free zone," you laugh, and your roommates do the same. Though you don't understand just why they are suddenly being so nice, you decide to run with it. After all, not _everyone_ should be approached with fear and caution.  
  
"I guess that we should get ready," Verity sighs, targeting your direction. "Not that I want to get out of bed. I've got to go get my laundry, so you can use the bathroom first."  
  
"Alright," you accept. "Thanks."  
  
Once Alexa exits the bathroom, you go in, and prepare for the day. The shower water is warm against your skin, and why wouldn't it be? With your powers revolving around fire, you can warm up even the coldest of showers.  
  
You finish in the bathroom, just as Verity is coming through the bedroom door.  
  
"That was a long trip," you say, observing the neatly folded pile of clothes in her hand. "Problem downstairs?"  
  
"Nothing was folded," she informs you. "Frustrating."  
  
"_Meticulous_ is more like it, Verity," Alexa laughs aloud. "Get your butt in the shower. (You) and I would like to eat at _some_ point today!" Verity sticks her tongue out at Alexa, and you laugh.  
  
"_They really are good people to get to know_," you think to yourself, as you walk over to your dresser, and begin pulling out different pieces of clothing. You consult your closet, in an attempt to find your favorite pair of flare legged jeans.  
  
"Your jeans are in with my stuff," Verity says, coming out of the bathroom. "You left them in the dryer when you did your laundry yesterday."  
  
"Thanks," you say, sincerely. "_Gotta' love her sixth sense_," you think to yourself, knowing that you would have lost countless things in the dryer, if it weren't for her, and the fact that she knows just who owns what when it is left somewhere. Forgetful and More Forgetful roomed with Omniscient. You couldn't have _planned_ a a more fitting triangle.  
  
You pull the jeans out of Verity's pile of clothes, and take them over to your bed. You finish getting dressed, and sit on your bed to wait for the others to finish getting ready. You begin to think about how happy you are to have a full day off from having to go to classes, giving the students time to study before finals. You don't really want to study today, but that is because you don't really have to. You know the material for each class, and are passing with A's and B's. That is good enough for you.  
  
"(You), are you ready?" Alexa asks, and you look up, to find that they are both standing by the door.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so," you say, and nod your head. Rising from your bed you make your way to the door. "_Time to meet some people_," you think, nervously, as you shut the door behind you. "_This should be interesting_."

* * *

Author's Note: There you have it! I hope that enjoyed it. I know, it is a little bit shorter than the last one. However, I am going to keep going, and hopefully have another chapter or two done today. If you think that you figured anything out about where this is going, I would love to hear your ideas! As always, I await your kind words! Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter... 


	3. Absorbing the Zippo

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: Okay, another chapter. I thank you all for your kind words. I'm glad that everyone is liking it so far! I was afraid that people would hate a second person story in this fandom! Well, again, thank you. I hope that you enjoy Chapter Three!

* * *

"Guys," Verity said, standing over the group of students sitting at a picnic table outside. "We brought someone to breakfast with us." She motions for you to step forward, and you do.  
  
Scanning the table, you see two people that you know, Rogue, who is holding hands with the same guy that she is always hanging around, and Kitty, who is busy blowing air onto her freshly painted nails. You all share greetings. There are five others at the table, whom you don't know; three guys, and two girls. Both of the girls have dark hair, and they both smile at you. The blonde guy with Rogue looks up, holds up a hand, and waves. You can't help but wave back. A dark haired guy beside Kitty looks up, and smiles.  
  
"Morning," he says, with a small smile.  
  
"Good morning," you return the greeting, along with the smile. There is one more guy, whose face you can't see, as his back is to you. He is wearing a leather jacket, and you can see that he is playing with something. You look at him in question, before Verity speaks up again.  
  
"This is Rogue, Bobby, Kitty, Gambit, Jubilee, Orienne, and -."  
  
"Verity!" someone calls from behind you, and she turns around.  
  
"I'll be right back," she says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Talk for a little while."  
  
Once she departs, the young man with the jacket begins to speak.  
  
"Alright," he says, not bothering to turn around. "Since I wasn't mentioned before her highness took off on you, I'll introduce myself." He stands, and turns around to face you. When you see his face, your mouth drops, as you recognize him from your kitchen trip the night before. You laugh, seeing that he has the same surprised look on his face. "(You), right?"  
  
"Yeah," you say, with a smile. "I can only call you the Jumpy One. I never got your name."  
  
"(You)?" Rogue asks, smiling. "You guys know each other?"  
  
"Yeah," the boy answers, still looking at you. "She offered to make me dinner last night."  
  
"Liar," you mouth, knowing that no one else can see but the guy in front of you.  
  
"What?" asks the blonde guy. "You skipped dinner, John."  
  
"Forget it, Bobby," he laughs, turning slightly. "The ship has sailed, and you are drowning." Bobby sticks his tongue out the boy before you, and then motions to you.  
  
"Come sit down, (you)," he offers, pointing to an empty section. "There's plenty of room."  
  
"Thanks," you say, and follow the dark haired mystery man to the picnic table. Turning to him, you can't help but inquire. "So, what _is_ your name?" you ask, tired of not knowing just who you are dealing with, not to mention the fact that the only thing that you can currently call him is the Jumpy One.  
  
He smirks. "I'm John."  
  
Once again, your mouth drops. "You're the Pyro," you say, more as a statement than an actual question.  
  
"You've heard of me," he laughs. "How?"  
  
Your brain freezes; it's really not the time to say that your roommates each of a thing for him. "Just... You know," you lie. "Around." He nods, and you hear the clicking sound again. Finally you look, and see that John is playing with a lighter.  
  
"_Should have seen that one coming_," you laugh to yourself. You look up, and smile at everyone. "It's nice to meet you, for those that I haven't met before."  
  
"You new here?" Jubilee asks, and snaps her gum.  
  
"Four years ago, yeah," you say, with a smile.  
  
"Wow," Rogue laughs. "You've been her longer than me, (you)."  
  
You nod your head. "I know. I remember the day that you showed up here."  
  
"Yeah, I don't like to think about that one, much." You see her frown a little, and feel bad about bringing it up in the first place.  
  
"Sorry," you apologize, dropping your head a little.  
  
"No, it's fine," Rogue assures you, with a smile. "Just one of those things, you know?"  
  
You nod your head again, and begin to let yourself get lost in the sound of John clicking his lighter. Just when you have gotten to timing the second between each flick, open, close, open, close, you are snapped back to reality by a cheery voice.  
  
"How is everyone doing over here?" When you look up, you are not surprised to see Verity standing before you.  
  
"We're alright," Bobby assures her. "Just having a moment of quiet."  
  
"(You), don't tell me you wall flowered," she laughs. "John, could you scoot down a little bit? I'd like to sit down."  
  
"Yeah," he mumbles, obviously not wanting to move from his position. He stands, and slides down the banch, toward the end. "There. (You), now you can move down with me."  
  
You stand up, and move your body down the bench. No sooner do you sit down, then Verity starts to talk.  
  
"Well, how are you all this morning?" she chirps, way too happily for the hour that it is.  
  
"Fine," Jubilee informs the blonde. "We're just peachy. (You) has been quiet, though. I think that she should talk a bit more, but, that's just me."  
  
"Not just you," Gambit says, with a smile. "I definitely think that she should say _something_." He shoots you a grin, and you laugh a little.  
  
"Well, fine," you challenge. "What is there to talk about today?"  
  
Without a second's hesitation, John flicks his lighter closed, and turns back to you.  
  
"What's your power all about?" he asks, tilting his head to one side.  
  
You laugh at his lack of hesitation; you've never met anyone so straight forward in your life.  
  
"Anybody have a match?" you ask, deciding to show, rather than tell.  
  
"Use John's lighter," Bobby suggests, and you crack a smile.  
  
"From what I've heard, he'd give his right arm never to be parted from it, so, I don't think that that would be a good idea." You smile at him, and he looks back up at you.  
  
"Allow me to prove you wrong, then," John says, holding his lighter out to you. You grasp it in your hand, and flick it open. Striking a flame, you hold it, tilted, beside your left palm. A small ball of flame settles just above your hand, and, before you can close the lighter, the fire disappears into your hand.  
  
Jubilee snaps her gum again. "That's what you do?" she laughs. "You make things disappear?"  
  
You smile, and pass the lighter back to John. You place you left hand back on the table, and lift your right hand. Holding your palm to the sky, you lightly blow air from your wrist, up to the tip of your fingers. As you do so, flames emerge from you hand.  
  
"Cool," Rogue says, smiling. "Is that the extent of it?"  
  
You shake your head from side to side. "No, that's on safe mode. I can touch things, and make them go up in flames, when I want to." You mentally shake the thoughts that are now coming back to you, concerning your first encounter with your powers. "_I don't want to think about that_," you tell yourself. "All I have to do is absorb the fire, and I can do pretty much whatever I want to. Well, within reason, if you know what I mean."  
  
"I know that feeling," John said. "I didn't know that there was another student with the power to control fire."  
  
"Neither did I, before I heard about you," you laugh. "Thanks for letting me use your Zippo." You smile again, and look at your watch; it's almost ten o'clock. Feeling a little bit hungry, since you hadn't grabbed anything to eat yet, you stand up.  
  
"Where are you going, (you)?" Kitty asks, raising an eyebrow. "Don't run away."  
  
"Relax," you laugh. "I'm just going to go get something for breakfast." You begin to make your way back to the mansion, when you hear the sound of feet moving behind you.  
  
"You know," comes a voice. "Food sounds good right about now. I guess I should get something, too." You turn around, thinking that John has followed you. To your surprise, it is Gambit.  
  
"_What in the world_?" you think, but brush the thought aside. "Yeah, food does sound good." You smile, and resume walking. You are surprised at the new feeling that is overcoming you; friendship. "_I guess I can make friends, after all_," you laugh to yourself.  
  
"What's funny?" Gambit asks you, as he moves in front of you to open a door, snapping you out of your thoughts.  
  
"Nothing," you say, with another smile. "Just happy today, is all." You step inside, and turn to him. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem," he says, returning your smile. He follows you inside, and closes the door behind him.  
  
To your surprise, the kitchen is completely empty, and you head for the refrigerator.  
  
"I'm thinking fruit," you say, with a quick nod. "How about you?"  
  
Gambit shrugs. "I have no idea," he laughs, looking at you. "I guess... Fruit for me, too, I guess."  
  
You pull two apples from the refrigerator, and rinse them off in the sink. Tossing Gambit an apple, you laugh again. Taking a bite, you lean against the counter top, and watch your new friend bite into his. When he tenses, you raise an eyebrow.  
  
"What's the matter?" you ask, curious.  
  
"Cold," he responds, pointing to the apple.  
  
You sigh. "It just came straight from the refrigerator. What did you expect?" You both laugh, and you return to your apple. Taking another bite, you let out a sigh of contentment; it is shaping up to be a fairly decent day.

* * *

Author's Note: Wow. That was a long one, huh? Well, I hope that you enjoyed it! I might get another chapter up later, but probably not until this evening, at the earliest. As always, I await your thoughts! Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter... 


	4. A Common Mistake

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words. No copyright infringement is intended. I don't own MASH, either.

Author's Note: Yes, it's been a time since the last chapter. My apologies to those that were waiting, and my pure, unfiltered thanks to those who have given such kind reviews! I have been working on a new project, called _Lighter Fluid: Pyro Fanfiction Archive_, which has been taking up a lot of my time. However, I am finished, so new chapters will be coming your way more often! Here is Chapter Four! I hope that you enjoy it!

* * *

Breakfast had gone over pretty well, with you hanging in the kitchen with Gambit for quite a while. John had been quiet after you returned to the picnic table, and had quickly excused himself soon after. You had been curious, but didn't dare ask; after what Rogue had told you about him, and about his temper when he got into one of his moods, you had decided to let him be, without an inquiry. Even though you had wanted to know what had suddenly flattened his mood, you didn't pry.

Shortly after John had left, you had remembered some last minute things that you had wanted to get done before lunch, and excused yourself, as well.

"We're losing everyone," Rogue had said, with a laugh.

"Well," Gambit threw in. "It doesn't stop with her." He rose from his spot, and followed you in, again.

"_Relentless friends_," you thought to yourself. "_Now, there's something that I hadn't planned on_."

Gambit had walked you up to your room, and you got a kick out of his accent. You hadn't talked to anyone with such an accent in a long time, not since the third grade, when a new girl had come to your town from a small town in France. You found it amusing, then, but respected it, now. Just one of those things, really.

"Thanks," you said, smiling. "Thanks for being friendly today. I wasn't expecting someone like you to be down there to begin with, this morning."

"Someone like me?" he inquired, his smile matching yours for size and depth.

"A guy," you teased. "I don't really know how to put it."

"Alright, then," he nodded. "I guess that I will leave you to whatever it was that you needed to do."

"Okay. Thanks for walking me up here."

"My pleasure. I will see you soon?" he asked, and you caught a bit of hope in his voice.

"Definitely." You opened your bedroom door, and began to step inside. Closing the door behind you, you looked back. "Bye."

"Bye," Gambit said, and began to step back through the hallway.

You closed the door the rest of the way, and went to work on your last minute things.

...

Now, you sit on your bed, books spread out everywhere, thinking about the morning. You want to make it look like you are studying, but you really have no capacity for acedemic premises. All that you want to know about is what had happened to John between the time that you and Gambit had gone to the kitchen, and when you had returned. He had been silent, than he seemed upset, and he walked away. You don't know him _that_ well, but, you can pick up on when something is bothering a person. It's really not that hard.

Tired of trying to do your work, you scoot off of your bed, leaving everything where it lays. Who knows? You might want to do some studying after.

"_Sure_," you think to yourself. "_Then, maybe, I'll burn down the mansion_."

You slide out of the room, and head for, where else, the kitchen, hoping to find someone specific down there to talk to. Sure, Rogue had said not to bother him, but, then again, since when did you become the girl to back away from someone, and leave them to their own misery? That is what you usually allow others to do to you, not the other way around. The look on his face is really getting at you, and you want to know if you can help at all. External images aside, you could really care less about how well he tolerated concern from others. He had had enough time to cool off a little, so it was time to go be a friend.

You reach the kitchen, only to find it filled with people, taking things from the refrigerator, putting things back in the cupboards, talking, and laughing.

No John.

Sighing to yourself, you turn back, and wander toward the common room, which you know will be empty by now; everyone is outside, having lunch, minus those in the kitchen, still preparing theirs. You cross the threshhold, and, to your surprise, find that the television is on. You let your gaze slide to the couch, and see a bit of dark brown hair peeking out from over the top of the cushion. Assuming that it is one of the younger kids, you round to the front of the couch, eyes locked on the television screen, which is currently on a rerun of MASH. You recognize the episode, one where Hawkeye crashes in on the Peace Talks in Korea, and ends up getting away with it.

"You seen this before?" you ask, not looking down. "It's a good one." You don't let your eyes stray from the screen, knowing that Hawkeye is about to ask everyone to join hands, turn to their neighbour, and say "howdy".

"I've seen 'em all at least once," the individual beside you says. "Same old story." His voice causes you to turn your head; somehow, you just had that feeling.

"Hi, John," you say, with a smile. "Had the feeling that it was you, there." So, it was a lie; you originally thought that it was one of the new kids. "_Oh, well_," you think to yourself. "_What he doesn't know won't necessarily kill him, now, will it_?"

John shrugs. "What's up?" His tone is flat, pretty much void of feeling in any direction. He doesn't seem genuinely interested, but, since he asked, you will tell.

"I was looking for you," you inform him. "I wanted to talk with you."

"What about?" he asked, still staring at the television.

"You cut out pretty quickly this morning." You sigh. "I just wanted to make sure that you were alright."

"Well," he begins, coldly. "I'm fine. So, you can go back to your friends or whatever the hell it is that you do."

Your mouth almost drops; what in the world is eating at him? All that you are trying to do is to be friendly, and he is already starting to bite your head off.

"I said that you can go." He looks up at you, for the first time since you entered the room. "You don't have to feel sorry for me, sitting in here."

"I'm not giving out pity, today, John," you say, quietly. "I'm just trying to be nice." You look down, but manage to catch his movement out of the corner of your eye.

John shifts in his seat, and stares at you. He leans in, just close enough where you can feel the heat of his breath. You inch back, against the arm of the couch, and he keeps getting closer. When you can't go any further, he stops moving, too, just a few inches in front of your face. You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.

"Go sell it somewhere else," he hisses, and pulls himself up. He settles back in his seat, and fixes his eyes back on the television.

You are completely stunned; what did you do to deserve that? Nothing, that's what. You collect yourself, stand, and turn to leave the room. Before you walk out, you decide to have the last word.

"You know, John, I've heard enough about you to last me a lifetime. I've heard all about your image, and the fact that you don't like to let your feeling show. When it comes to me, I care, alright?" John looks up, and you can't help but notice that he looks a little shocked. You continue, not caring too much about what he thinks, at the moment. "I have feelings, too, just like you. I know what it's like to have my feeling hurt. It sucks, plain and simple. You have a way of making people feel bad, you know that?" By now, you are yelling, and have gotten the attention of several students in the hallway. "We are all human, to some extent of the word. So, don't act like you are the only one who knows what it's like to be alone. Get over it, get over yourself, and find some other way to vent your frustrations that doesn't involve making everyone around you feel bad. Bottom line, drop the angst, John! I've only known you for a few hours, but you cold, unfeeling attitude is already wearing thin."

You take a breath, and continue to look at John. His mouth is open, and he now looks completely shocked. You turn back for the door, and close your eyes. You aren't done, but decide to bring your voice down a little. Letting your head turn to your left, you absently look at the floor. As gently as possible, you continue.

"If you decide that you want to talk about whatever is bothering you..." you trail, from over your shoulder. "If you want to talk about anything, just, come find me."

With your final words, you leave John on the couch, mouth agape, and head up to your room, regretting every single word that you just said to him.

* * *

Author's Note: John can be so mean sometimes, huh? Well, that was, honestly, unexpected, until I got to it. So, what did you think? As always, I await your thoughts! Where do you want this story to go? Where do you _think_ it is heading? I'd love to hear from you on that, too. There might be another chapter up tonight, though I am not sure what I will do just yet. Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter...


	5. A New League of Relief

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words. No copyright infringement is intended. Batista is not any fabrication of my imagination, either.  
  
Author's Note: I need to shake the effects of the last chapter. That is why I am choosing to write this chapter today, right after the last one, no day long break in between them. I hate to leave things on an angry note, I really do. So, on that note, here is Chapter Five! I hope that you enjoy it!

* * *

Two days had passed since your little outburst with John, and some comforting words from your friends had followed said incident. Gambit, or Remy, as he has now told you to call him, was afraid that you would crawl back up into your hole, and not come back out. Just because you locked yourself in your room for the rest of the day didn't mean that you were ready to go back to the darker side of life. You were already having too much fun, minus the arguement.  
  
Verity, who had been one of the girls in the hallway when you let loose, had followed you upstairs, and had inquired. You spilled the whole story, and she was in shock.  
  
"He's in a mood, alright," she said. "But, he had no right to yell at you."  
  
"I had no right to do what I did, either," you admitted, with a sigh.  
  
"No!" Verity shook her head. "Don't think that, (you). You had every right to be mad. If I had been you, I would have torn him a new one, too."  
  
"Don't try poetry, Verity," you laughed. She laughed with you, and had convinced you to go back downstairs with her. The rest of the day had gone smoothly.  
  
Two days, and still no contact with John. Not that the thought that you two are seemingly avoiding each other makes you feel much better, but, at least there would be no awkward moments between the two of you.  
  
The light shines through your window, and you stare outside. There are a handful of other students outside, shaking off the class period.  
  
"_One exam down_," you think to yourself. "_Just five more to go_." Your first exam was simple; English Composition was a breeze, just as always. Not that Mr. Summers would have made it very difficult, to begin with; his tests are always easy. It is no wonder that you are getting an A.  
  
With a sigh, you slide off of the bed, and head out of your room. You have spent enough time in their over the last few days, with studying and feeling bad. No need to keep adding to it. You make your way through the hallway, and downstairs, the whole time thinking about the exams to come in the coming days. You have a Chemistry exam, a Physics paper to finish, and a U.S. History exam.  
  
The thought makes you freeze; you have an exam with John.  
  
"_Damn_," you think. "_I guess that there will be an awkward silence, after all_." You smile, and continue your way to the back yard.  
  
The day is too warm for pants, so you had decided to wear shorts for the day. You thank yourself for having made the choice, as the temperature is easily eighty-two degrees. Of course, you know what eighty-two degrees feels like, and more, which makes many people believe that you can handle the heat so much better than anyone else. Nothing could be farther from the truth; you hate the heat, which is the irony of your power. You absorb the fire, but hate the heat, and there is nothing more to really be said about it, other than it is ironic.  
  
No sooner do you get out of the door, then you hear an unmistakable voice.  
  
"Hey!" You hear the smooth, southern accent that could only belong to Rogue, as she calls to you. "It's about time you show your face in the sun, (you)!"  
  
You stick your tongue out at her, and she does the same. You walk over to her, and sit down next to her, under the large willow tree, the exact same one that you usually eat and write under.  
  
"What's up?" you ask, looking around.  
  
"Just watching the guys playing football," she replies, with a smile. She points her finger to just over your shoulder, and you turn around to look.  
  
"Sorry," you apologize, realizing that you have sat right in her field of vision. You slide to her left, and sit beside her. In no time, you end up in the same position as her, lying on your stomach on the grass.  
  
As you watch the guys, tossing the football around, your eyes fall on one boy in particular. He's about your age, maybe a bit older, but he's built like a brick wall.  
  
"Who is _that_?" you ask, absentmindedly, as you point to the dark haired guy, who is, at the moment, catching Remy in a tackle.  
  
"Who?" Rogue asks, as if you just snapped her out of a trance. She follows _your_ finger to the group of boys, as you point to the individual in question. "Peter?"  
  
You shrug. "I've got no idea what his name is!" you laugh. "That's why I asked you!"  
  
Rogue laughs. "Well, you mean the big, tall guy who looks like he could take down Batista?"  
  
"Batista?" you ask, in disbelief. "The wrestler?"  
  
"Yeah," she nods. Her face turns bright pink. "I'm a closet wrestling fan, myself."  
  
"I never would have guessed," you continue, with a smile. You, too, are a bit of a wrestling fan. Well, enough to know what you are talking about when the topic comes up. "So, that's Peter?"  
  
"Yep. That's Peter. Peter Rasputin. I swear, the boy should be a quarterback or something."  
  
"Yeah, I can see it now. We'd have to start our own league." You pause for a moment, and think to yourself. "The MFL."  
  
"MFL?" Rogue asks, with a laugh. "Now, _that_ would be something!"  
  
You nod. The Mutant Football League _would_ be a sight to see, but, only for other mutants, most likely. To some humans, it might as well be a sideshow attraction.  
  
"So," Rogue continues, once again returning her gaze to the guys. "Have you talked to John about the other day, yet?"  
  
You shake your head. "No, I haven't." You sigh, and join Rogue in watching the game again. "I haven't even seen him to get the chance to talk to him."  
  
Rogue shuffles. "Well, he's right there," she informs you, pointing to where her eyes have fallen.  
  
Once again, you follow the direction of her finger, and end up looking out at John, his hair flying everywhere, stuck to his face, all sweaty, with no shirt on. You can't help but stare; he looks extremely good.  
  
"How many times has he been tackled?" you ask, not looking away.  
  
"Um, let's see," Rogue says, twisting her face. "Once by Peter, once by Remy, which really got him angry, don't ask me why, and three times by Bobby."  
  
"_Three_ by _Bobby_?" you ask, turning your head to look at her.  
  
"Yeah," Rogue nods. "They were trying to see who could get at who the most times."  
  
"Who's winning?" you ask, expecting one particular answer.  
  
"Bobby, at the moment, I think." Rogue laughs to herself, lightly. "I don't think that John has gotten anywhere."  
  
You mouth an "oh", and return your attention to the game at hand. It doesn't take long for you to find John again, and your body tenses, when you notice that he has stopped moving, and is now staring back at you.  
  
"Wave to him," Rogue suggests, bumping her shoulder against yours for added enthusiasm.  
  
Raising your hand, you feel your face get hot, and you wave. You expect him to shake his head, and go back to playing football. However, he cracks a small smile, and waves back. You laugh, and he continues to wave, but it doesn't last long; John puts his hand down, only to be suddenly struck to the ground, in a surprise tackle from behind.  
  
"_Four_ by Bobby," Rogue quickly says, tacking on another one for her boyfriend. The two of you are already stiffling laughter, but that sends you into a fit of almost uncontrollable laughter. It's not directed at John's fall, but at the surprise of it all. You both stop laughing, as you begin to hear the guys talking.  
  
John stands, and is holding his arm.  
  
"Dammit, Drake!" he yells. "That one hurt!"  
  
"You alright, man?" Bobby asks, concerned.  
  
"I'm fine," John says, nodding. "I'm gonna' take a minute to recover, but, you had better watch your ass when I get back out here."  
  
"Maybe we should all take a break," Peter suggests. "I need to get something to drink."  
  
"Me, too," Remy agrees. "I'll go with you." Peter and Remy take off, while Bobby and John grab their shirts, and make their way over to where you and Rogue have begun rolling in the grass, trying to contain your laughter.  
  
"What's so funny?" Bobby asks, dropping down next to Rogue. He pulls her up, and kisses her, before lying back against the grass with her.  
  
Right above you, John is still standing, as if he is waiting for your permission to sit down. You look at him, quizzically, and raise an eyebrow.  
  
"I know," he says, leaning down. "You don't bite. Right?"  
  
"No, I charbroil," you respond, with a laugh. "Take a seat."  
  
John nods, and drops to the ground at your left. He rolls onto his back, and groans.  
  
"You hurt?" you ask, hoping that something hasn't been broken. He might be tough by attitude, but, by body mass, he's pretty thin, and thin means easily damaged.  
  
He shakes his head. "No, I'm alright." He rubs his arm. "Just a battle injury."  
  
"Then, why are you whimpering?" you tease, making him aware that you have noted his puppy noises. "Is there anything that I can do to help?"  
  
"Maybe," he says, grinning. The look on his face signals to you that it was the wrong thing to ask; he is about to give you a John original for an answer. "Feel like giving me a massage?"  
  
"Do I look like I could do that for you, to the point where it would _releave_ your pain?"  
  
"Uh-huh." He continues to grin. "How about it."  
  
"(You)," Rogue laughs. "If John will stop whining, it might be in your best interest to do it."  
  
"I was just about to tell him that I would, if he would shut up." You laugh, and wave your hand. "Roll over. I can't do it from here."  
  
John groans again, and turns over. You've given massages before, but you aren't very good at it. You start to move your hands across John's shoulders, when you hear Bobby's voice.  
  
"Now, John can get the new girl, who he hasn't even known for a week, to do that for him, but I can't get you, my _girlfriend_ to do it for me?" Rogue swats him across the arm.  
  
"Fine," she challenges. "Roll over, and I'll do it."  
  
Bobby, who is wearing a grin similar to John's, wastes no time getting in the same position as his friend.  
  
"What a great way to be relieved of the pressures of exams, huh, John?"  
  
"No kidding," John laughs, raising his upper body a little.  
  
"Head down," you order, lightly pushing John's head toward the ground.  
  
"Yes, ma'am." You smack him in the back of the head, not so lightly, and he laughs.  
  
"Who would've thought we'd be doing this," you begin, over your shoulder. "You know it, Rogue."  
  
"That's okay," Rogue laughs back. "They get to do this for us next."  
  
Bobby laughs, and John is silent, before making a comment.  
  
"I've got no complaints," he says, head still down, this time.  
  
You shake your head, but don't bother to ask what he means by it. It's not that you don't want to know. It's more that you are happy enough that he is actually still talking to you after what had happened between the two of you the other day in the common room. You continue to run your hands across his shoulders, and his back, and smile.

"_Who would've guessed_," you think to yourself, with a sigh. "_This is going to be interesting_." You look over your shoulder, and think of something to say. "By the way, Bobby, nice tackle." John sticks his tongue out at you, and you do the same to him. "_Oh, yeah_," you think, again. "_It's definitely going to get interesting_."

* * *

Author's Note: That was a long chapter. I hope that I didn't lose anyone on that one. I'm trying to keep everything slow, before the real fun begins. Trust me, it will be soon! I also wanted to set up the passing of your fight with John. So, what did you think? As always, I await your thoughts. I am thinking about writing another one tonight, but, again, I don't know. Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter...


	6. Getting a Lift

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words. No copyright infringement is intended. 

Author's Note: Well, I must say, I am shocked that you guys actually liked the last chapter. I was pretty shakey, complete with weird stomach feeling, and everything. I'm glad that you enjoyed it, though! You really put my fears to rest, guys! Here is Chapter Six! I hope that you enjoy it!

* * *

"_Carthaginian General during the Punic Wars_." You read the swenty-seventh question to yourself, and consider the answer. You think that it is one of the most open questions on the exam, since there were most likely many generals during the time period.

You look down, just below the question, and see a special catch. "_HINT: He used elephants in battle_."

Mouthing a silent "oh", you decide on your answer. You write your answer, _Hannibal Barca_, on the paper, and move on to the next question, with a smile. Only Ms. Munroe would give a question like that, and have a special hint at the end for you guys. That is one of the factors involved in her being your favorite teacher; she is just so nice.

The rest of the test goes quickly, and you end up being the third person finished. Flipping your test over, you place your pencil on top of it, and wait for Ms. Munroe to come around to pick up the finished exams. You are happy to have your fourth exam of six out of the way. Now, all that was left was to hand in your Physics paper to Professor Xavier, and a test of your abilities in the Danger Room.

"_The things that get passed off for physical education around here_," you laugh to yourself. You bring your eyes up, and scan the room. Since you have a seat in the back right hand corner of the room, you can easily catch a glimpse of everyone, without being told to stay focused. You see Rogue, who has just flipped to the last page of her exam, with a look of relieved anticipation spread across her face. You smile, and continue to look around. Bobby is finished with his exam already, and that is no surprise; he was probably the first one finished, since that is how it always goes with him. He is staring over Rogue's shoulder, from beside her, most likely trying to find out how far she was. Other than you, Bobby, and one of the new girls, whose name you don't know, everyone else is still working their hearts out.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, you hear the sound that you had anticipated hearing long ago, right after the start of the exam. It was the familiar sound of flick, close, flick, close, coming from John's lighter. Subconsciously, you reach out your left hand, and cover John's right hand, which held his lighter. He had decided to sit beside you today, so that Rogue and Bobby could copy off of one another, and so that you wouldn't have to sit alone, for what John had called "_such a stressing event_". You had seen no problem with it when you had discussed it the night before. Now, his lighter was becoming a primary flaw in the seating arrangement, since it was driving you crazy, and you wanted to stop him from getting into trouble.

You tighten your grip on his hand, to signal a strong dislike for the sounds. You can see him looking at you out of the corner of your eye, and you shake your head from side to side, gently, without actually looking in his direction. If you look at him, and Ms. Munroe looks at you, she could get the impression that you are helping him on his test, or something. Releasing your grip, you make sure that his lighter is closed, as you slide your hand away. You are almost tempted to take it away from him, but you don't want to start something disruptive, nor do you wish to start something that you might regret, later.

Once John finishes his test, you hear him sigh, and you can't help but laugh. If he thinks that he has just finished the hardest test of his life, you hate the thought of having to tell him that he still has a Chemistry exam to go, one that you have already taken, and it isn't something that he can just blow off on studying for. Though you know that he _will_ just blow it off in the end, you are still planning on pushing him to study.

"Alright, class," Ms. Munroe says, at last. "Thank you for all of your hard work this semester. I will be seeing many of you again soon. Good luck with the rest of your exams."

Everyone says their goodbyes, and you make a dash for your room. No one is upstairs yet, since Ms. Munroe let you out of class as soon as everyone was finished, but you still want to get to your as soon as you can; you and Rogue are hitting the mall, and Mr. Summers is letting you take the Mercedes.

"He said that it was a reward for getting such good grades this semester," Rogue had told you the day before. "That, and the fact that I told him that I would beg him, constantly, until he said that we could take it."

You weren't going to argue with that. The Mercedes wasn't your _favorite_ car, but, in the spirit of things, it was a nice gesture on the part of Mr. Summers, one that you wouldn't turn down.

As soon as you get to your room, you throw all of your books under your bed, and scurry over to your closet. Pushing aside half of your wardrobe, which isn't very large to begin with, you let your eyes fall on the one outfit that you own that you have never worn. There was a pair of white shorts, and a light blue halter top. You had picked it up somewhere, a long time ago. Halters usually made you uncomfortable, since you were always in a school, and you didn't want to be made fun of for dressing like a... Well, like something that you weren't.

Rogue had seen the clothes the night before, and said that she wished that she could wear something like it.

"If only I had the guarantee that no one would touch me," she laughed. "Unfortunately, I don't. You, however, do. Wear it tomorrow, when we go to the mall."

You shifted uneasily, as you stood before your open closet. "I don't know. It's just not me."

"Then, why do you have it?" She smiled, and raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. "It might have been me _four years ago_, Rogue." You sighed. "Now, I am having second thoughts. Even _third_ thoughts!"

What it had come down to was whether or not to wear the stupid shirt or not. The two of you had reached no agreement on the topic, so the decision was left for you to make.

As you stand before your closet, disputed article of clothing in hand, you weigh your alternatives. It takes a minute, but you finally realize that there is no way that you are wearing any of your regular clothes to the mall; your first trip to the local mall calls for something fun.

"_Halter top it is, then_," you say to yourself, and slip into the bathroom to get ready.

Ten minutes later, you come out of the bathroom, only to find that Verity and Alexa have both come back from their exams, and are sitting on Alexa's bed, reading a teen magazine. When they see you, each girl lets her jaw drop.

"Wow," Alexa laughs. "Is that (you)?"

"Yeah," you say, nodding your head. "This is me. Surprised?"

Both girls nod, and you go to your nightstand. Throwing the clothes that you have just changed out of into the top drawer, just to get them out of the way, you look in the mirror that hangs on the wall. You don't want to do the whole makeup thing, but you don't want to look like you only got two and a half hours of sleep last night, either. You decide that a little mascara, a tiny bit of lip gloss, and a pair of sunglasses are all that you will require.

After getting everything settled, you tell your roommates that you will see them later, and leave the room. You get to the end of the hallway, and look over the railing, and see that Rogue and Bobby are waiting at the bottom of the stairs, presumably for you.

"_I guess that she really can't go anywhere without him_," you laugh to yourself, as you descend the stairs.

"Wow, (you)," Bobby says, catching sight of you. "Now, _that_ is an outfit."

Rogue slaps him on the arm. "Stop drooling, Bobby," she says, with a laugh. Turning to you, she smiles. "I see that you went with my advice. Good choice."

You nod, and move to stand beside her. "I don't know, though," you whisper, only loud enough for her to hear. "I haven't worn anything like this in a while. Does it still look like it fits."

"You look fine," Rogue reassures you.

"Fine?" comes a voice from above. "I think that she looks great."

You swing your head up, to the top of the stairs, and see Remy standing there, along with Kitty, Jubilee, and Peter.

"You think so?" you ask, timidly. "I'm worried that it's too small for me."

"No!" Kitty shrieks. "It's fine! It's perfect!"

"That's easy for you to say," you tease. "You don't have to wear it!"

"Are we gonna' argue about this all day?" Peter cuts in. "I'd like to get to the mall before it closes."

"Alright," you say, rolling your eyes, playfully. "Let's go, then. We're taking two cars, right?"

"Yeah," Bobby confirms, with a nod. "We can't go yet, though."

"Why not?" Jubilee asks, with a snap of her gum.

Rogue sighs. "We're still waiting on John."

"I'll get him," you offer. "I'll be right back." You are tempted to tell Remy to stay, but fight it back; he's not going anywhere. You run up the stairs, trying desperately hard not to run anyone over in the process of your ascension.

You reach John and Bobby's room, and knock on the door.

"John?" you yell. "Let's drag it, boy." When you get no response, you turn the knob, and open the door. You poke your head inside, hoping to find John, preferably fully dressed, and ready to go. However, the room is dark, and empty. You shut the door, and shrug.

"_Where could he be_?" you wonder. "_He'd better make himself found right now_."

You turn around, and run into something solid, which pushes you back against the bedroom door a little. You let out a small scream.

"Woah," comes a male voice. You look up, and see John, as you feel his hands steadying your body. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"Let's just call us even for that night in the kitchen," you say, trying to catch your breath. "Alright?"

"Yeah," he laughs. "Sure."

"You ready to go?" you ask, a little impatiently. You didn't even know that he was coming, in the first place. You had expected it to be just you and Rogue, but it had somehow turned into a big crowd. Not that you mind more company; you just don't want to have to wait for it.

"Just gotta' grab my jacket," he says, sliding past you, and into his room.

"It's almost ninety degrees outside!" you inform him, as you stand by the door, shaking your head. "It's too hot for a _shirt_, let alone a jacket."

"You tryin' to tell me something?" he asks, a smile forming on his lips.

"Yeah, you wish," you say, sarcastically.

"So what if I do?" He keeps smiling, and you playfully roll your eyes, again.

"Let's just go," you say, gently pushing him down the hallway. "Peter is getting impatient."

"Alright." He slides to the side, grabs you around the waist, and lifts you up, into his arms.

"What in the hell are you doing?" you shriek, through your laughter.

"We'll get there faster if one of us isn't waiting on the other, right?" he laughs, maniacally.

"Put me down!" You try to slide out of his grasp, but to no avail; he just won't let go.

"No way." He doesn't say anything else, until you reach the stairs. Placing you down, he looks at you. "If I were to carry you down the stairs, I would probably trip, and kill us both. We can't have that."

With a swat to the back of John's head, you bolt down the stairs, him chasing you the whole way. You don't stop running, and John chases you through the group of your friends, out of the front door, and into the garage. He finally tackles you, up against the Mercedes, when you trip over a cinder block that someone has left in the middle of the garage, next to Mr. Summers' motorcycle. His tackle is really more of a catch, so that you don't fall down.

"Cheater," you breathe, your best attempt at forming words, as you are all out of breath.

John smiles, also breathless. "Uh-huh."

"Well, then, your tackle doesn't cou - ," you begin, but are cut off. You are shocked, as John's lips cover yours, in a quick, soft kiss. It doesn't last long, and, when he pulls away, his face is bright red.

"I've wanted to do that all week," he admits, panting.

"Then, why did you wait that long?" you ask, your voice a hushed whisper, and barely audible.

John opens his mouth to speak, a surprised look covering his face, but doesn't get the chance to say anything; Rogue and the others are coming into the garage, and are making enough noise to make everyone in the mansion think that you were all street racing down here.

John takes a step back, and runs his right hand through his hair. You stand up straight, and, as quickly as possible, you smooth down your clothes. You look at John, who looks at you, and you offer a smile. He does the same, and you hear Rogue call to him.

"John," she says, tossing him the keys. "You can drive if you want."

Before John can move, you step forward, intercept the keys, and toss them back.

"No, Rogue," you laugh. "You drive." She nods, and gets in the driver's seat.

As you round to the front of the car, John comes up behind you.

"Don't you trust me?" he asks, pouting a little.

"With my life? Yes. Driving us to the mall? No way." You get in the front passenger seat, and the guys get in the back. "Rogue," you say, with a smile. "To the mall."

Rogue nods, put the key in the ignition, and starts the car. In a matter of seconds, you are on the road, and are on your way to what you pray will be a good time.

* * *

Author's Note: Wow! I didn't mean for it to be _that_ long! Well, I hope that you guys don't mind. I just didn't see how I could cut it into two different chapters, without making at least one of the too short, if not, both of them. Told you that things were going to pick up, now, didn't I? I hope that you liked it, though! As always, I await your thoughts! Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter...


	7. Beyond the Wheel

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words. No copyright infringement is intended. I don't own _Jack and Diane_, either.

Author's Note: I have wanted to get to this part since before I even started the story! I just had no idea how to get there! Well, I am finally getting to put down some of my originally planned storyline, and I am estatic. Can't you tell? Anyway, here is Chapter Seven! I hope that you like it!

* * *

The entire ride to the mall is spent listening to music, and you dodging John's attempts to tickle you from the back seat. Bobby says that he would try something like that with Rogue, if she weren't driving. Rogue laughs, and makes a comment.

"If all goes according to plan, I won't be driving home," she says, and looks at you. You raise an eyebrow, and she motions her head toward the back seat. When you realize that she is referring to John, you shake your head.

"John, with a Mercedes, on the open road," you list off, sarcastically. "Not the best combination in the world." John reaches a hand toward you from either side of the seat, and you shriek, as he makes contact with your skin.

"There," he says, with a smirk. "Now, who's jumpy?" He whispers the last part to you from the right side of your seat, where no one else can hear him.

You whip your hand up, and, without looking, end up smacking him in the face.

"Oh, my God!" you say, as you feel your hand make contact with his nose. "I am so sorry!" You flip in your seat, as much as your seatbelt will allow you to, and look at your friend. He is lightly touching the tip of his nose, but isn't making any sounds to signal that you have hurt him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he says, wriggling his nose around a little. "Just surprised me, is all."

"Man," Bobby laughs. "You guys are going to inadvertently kill each other pretty soon."

"Well, I'll volunteer to be the prey," John says, staring straight at you. You don't know if he wants a response or not, so you just send him a sarcastic smile.

"Cynical," you mutter, rolling your eyes, playfully. As you return your gaze to the road ahead, all that keeps running through your mind is the kiss that you received just minutes ago. Well, it has been about twenty minutes, but, it still feels as though your lips made contact with John's just thirty seconds ago. The mystery behind it all falls on just _why_ he did what he did; you didn't even know that he liked you. After all, you had only known each other for less than a week, and he had been as cold as ice to you for a good deal of the time.

"_Funny_," you think to yourself, with a smile. "_I always thought that that would be Bobby's area_." You laugh a little._ "What a contradiction_."

"What are you laughing at, (you)?" Rogue asks, the first words to come out of her mouth in a while.

You look at her, as she darts her head, quickly, from the road, to you, to back to the road.

"Nothing," you laugh.

"No," Rogue argues, a sarcastic smile forming across her lips. "Tell me."

"Keep your eyes on the road," you order, as you close your eyes, and lean back, against the seat. You yawn, silently, and, unintentionally, attract attention.

"You're not going to fall asleep on us, are you, (you)?" Bobby asks, causing you to open your eyes, and look back at him. He has his head tilted to the right side, with an eyebrow raised, quizzically.

You yawn, again, and shake your head from side to side. "I don't think that John would _let_ me fall asleep, Bobby."

"Damn right," comes John's response, which is one that you expected.

"See?" You smile at Bobby, and return to your previous position, resting against the seat.

"Oh, John," Rogue says, snapping her fingers, as best she can, through her gloves. "I wanted to remind you that the Professor said, and I quote him, word for word, 'don't show off today'. Got it?"

You expect to hear John jump in, with a sarcastic comment, or a witty quote of his own. When no response comes, you lean forward in your seat, and look in the rear view mirror. You see John, leaning back in his seat, staring at his lighter, a sad smile crossing his face.

"Hey," you say, gently. "What's the matter, John?" You reach your right arm over the seat, your body still facing forward, and spread out your hand. In a few seconds, you feel John's hand, as it gently surrounds yours.

"I had a bit of an accident the last time that I was at the mall," he informs you, sadly. "Something that I actually really _don't_ like to think about."

"Accident?" Bobby says, with a laugh. "You nearly burned the guy into ashes!"

"And I said I don't like to think about it, Drake!" John yells, his tone scaring you a little. You've never heard him yell at _anyone_ before, let alone at his best friend.

You start to pull your hand back a little, not wanting to irritate him by holding on. When he feels you hand, pulling away from his, he looks back up at you.

"Sorry, Bobby," John mutters. "I didn't mean to yell."

"You freaked (you) out a little bit, I think," Rogue informs him, quickly gesturing her thumb in your general direction.

"Sorry, (you)," he apologizes, timidly.

"_That's not like John_," you think to yourself. "_Something must be going on in his head_."

Looking in the mirror again, you see John, with the same sad expression lining his face.

"Don't worry about it, boy," you assure him, with a smile. "You didn't really scare me." While you keep a smile on your face, you shudder inside, knowing that you are lying through your teeth; you are getting more and more worried about your friend with each and every passing minute.

John smiles, making you feel a little bit better, though not by much. It would take a full explanation and just shy of a miracle to make you feel completely at ease once again, and you just don't foresee that coming at any point in the near future.

The majority of the rest of the drive is spent with everyone talking about the day's news, mainly the Mutant Registration Act, which seems to be a growing possibility with each passing day. Another day, another debate, another Bill sent off to Congress. However, just when things would seem to be at their bleakest, Professor Xavier would make a new political ally, and that would set everyone's mind at ease a little. A new ally meant yet another set of eyes and ears up the chain of command, and that meant that gears could be in motion to peacefully reaching a common ground on the issue.

When topics of conversation have worn thin, Rogue suggests that you turn the radio back on, which had been shut off some time during your conversation surrounding politics. You push the power button, and get nothing but static. As you skip throught the different stations, you come across classical music, which can be alright to you at times, then some country, which you have no desire to leave it on. You keep going, until you reach a station playing the song _Jack and Diane_ by John Cougar Mellencamp.

"Oh!" Rogue screams. "Touch that dial, (you), and I will touch _you_!"

You can't help but laugh. "I wasn't planning on it, Rogue!" Honestly, you weren't going to change the station. "Anyway, it's not even a dial! It's a button!" Rogue laughs, and you begin to sing along with the song.

The song was a classic to you, but not in the usual way; it held a special place for you, since it was a world that you were never raised in, one where a person could be carefree, and teenagers could experience life. You had spent the last three years locked away from the world, so the lyrics were a way for your mind to run wild with ideas of what life could still be like, and what you now planned on making it.

"What is it with you guys and these old 80's songs?" John asks, looking at Bobby.

"Hey, man," Bobby defends himself, throwing his hands up in a surrender pose. "You don't see me singing!"

"Shut up!" you and Rogue scream, at the same time, causing you both to laugh.

You feel a shift from behind you, and you feel John kick your seat. You begin to turn around, but are stopped, as you hear John's voice coming, once again, from your right.

"You like to give orders, don't you?" he whispers, with a smirk.

"Only when I have to," you laugh. You are ready to say something else, but don't get the chance; One of Rogue's high pitched shrieks scare you half to death.

"Don't, Bobby!" she screams. "I'm driving!"

"What did you do, now, Drake?" John asks, looking at Bobby.

Bobby shrugs. "I don't know." His smile is enough to tell the whole story, and you just know that he tried to tickle her.

"Right," you say, with a laugh. A thought suddenly springs into your head, and you drop your arms, letting them slide onto either side of your seat. When you feel John's hands surrounding yours once again, you sigh.

"You actually want me to hold your hands?" he whispers, again, from your right.

"_I_ want to keep track of _your_ hands!" you inform him with a laugh.

"Well, then, I have no arguements." He squeezes your hands a little, very lightly, and you relax back against the seat. Five days, and you are already worried about where his hands are going to end up.

You hear Bobby whisper something to Rogue, but don't pay much attention. You are too tired to worry about what is going on around you. Soon, you drift off, the last thing you remember being the feeling of John's lips, as they lightly brushed against the palm of your right hand.

* * *

Author's Note: You _really_ need to get more sleep, don't you? Well, it was a little shorter than yesterday's chapters, and a little bit slower. I just couldn't leve with assumptions about what happened on the car ride, and I hate awkward silences! I didn't get to the part that had I wanted, and had hoped to get to, but, hey, at least I got _somewhere_, right? As always, I await your thoughts! Another, more _interesting_ chapter with be up tomorrow! Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter...


	8. Blind Hesitations

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words. No copyright infringement is intended. However, Desi's is my creation, to one extent or another.

Author's Note: My apologies for the gap in updating yesterday. I built a website, and then worked on Lighter Fluid, (Pyro Fanfiction Archive), so I was pretty well tapped for inspiration. I'll have you know, though, that I felt really bad afterward! Well, here is Chapter Eight! I hope that you enjoy it!

* * *

The night air is warm against your skin, as you step outside. Your pace quickens, and you are soon in a dead run. The grass is damp, and your bare feet are getting more and more wet with every step. Your heart is racing, and you adrenaline is going wild. If only it were for a good reason.

"Come back here!"

You hear the scream, but don't look back. You can't look back. You can't go back. Not now. Not after what you did.

"(You)!"

He won't stop screaming at you, and with all the right in the world. No. He has no right, no place, to yell at you anymore. He has no right.

Not now that you know what you are.

"(You)!"

You keep running, not knowing what will happen if you don't go back. You are all alone, in a world where you will be feared by everyone. You will never be accepted.

It keeps getting darker, and you keep running, not paying attention to where you are, where you've been, where you're going. Fear is overcoming your emotions, and your senses are dulling. All that you can do is keep running.

You feel a sudden pull at your left arm, and turn around. You let out a sceam.

...

You jolt up, in your seat, and scream. A hand quickly reaches out, and covers your mouth. Without thinking, you pull your arms forward, and end up smacking your right hand against the inside of the car.

"Woah!" The voice is surprised, yet soothing. You look up, only to see that John has your car door open, and is bent down beside you. "You alright, (you)?" he asks, his dark brown eyes full of concern.

You manage to nod, and look down; one of John's hands, the right one, was in the process of pulling your left arm around to be in front of you, when you woke up.

"_That was the pull_," you think to yourself, with a sigh of relief. You look back up, into John's eyes, and nod again.

"Alright." He stands up, and holds out his hand for you to take.

"I can get out of a car, you know, John," you inform him, with a laugh. He retracts his hand, and smirks. You unbuckle, and try to stand up, only to fall back down again.

"Oh, you can, can you?" John teases, stretching his hand out again. "You sure you're alright?"

"I fine," you confirm. With quick a look at John, who is wearing the same smirk as always, you let out a sigh of defeat, and take his hand. "_Since when do I have trouble getting out of vehicals_?" you ask yourself, as you stand up, and smooth out your clothes. "Thanks."

"No problem," John says, with a nod.

"(You), you okay?" Rogue calls from by the mall entrance.

"_The mall_," you think to yourself. "_That's right_." You look at Rogue, and put up your right hand. "I'm good."

"Well, let's go, then!" Kitty says, coming up behind you and John, with Jubilee, Remy, and Peter right behind her. "I'm in the mood to shop, today!"

"You're in the mood to shop _every_ day, Kitty," John says, shaking his head from side to side. Turning to you, he smiles. "Ready for your first mall trip?" His smile becomes a grin, and you return the look.

"Absolutely," you respond, as you grab his hand, and the two of you run to catch up with the others. Well, you are pulling John for a little bit, but he soon manages to catch up.

As soon as you are all inside, Rogue grabs your left arm, and pulls you to the side. Without saying a word, she points behind you. You turn around, and see a clothing store, called Desi's, with many different items inside.

"We're going there," Rogue informs you, as she pushes you toward the opening of the store.

You go inside, and look at the first thing that catches your eye; a black tank top, with flames jumping up from the bottom.

"It would go great with your jeans," Rogue says, coming up from behind you.

"I was thinking the same thing," you say, truthfully. It did go well with a pair of jeans that you had back at the school, which had the same type of flames coming up from each leg. Checking the label, you laugh to yourself. "No wonder," you say, with a nod. "It's the same designer."

Rogue nods. "How much money do you have?" she asks, looking at the price tag. When she shows it to you, you aren't sure what to say.

"Enough," you reply, with a laugh. Pulling the shirt off of the rack that it is on, you check the size, and are satisfied that it is the right size for you. The money issue isn't important; the shirt is cheap, and you have racked up enough money in your bank account back home over the past few years to keep yourself covered for at least _one_ mall excursion.

You keep looking around, and are soon joined by Kitty and Jubilee, who keep looking for things for you to try on. Once you finally have had enough of being the dress up doll for the girls, you round up what you _are_ planning to buy, and let the others put everything else back, while you head to cash out.

"Morning," the sales clerk greets you, with a big smile.

"Afternoon," you correct him, pointing to the clock that is hanging above his head.

"Right." His face turns red, as you continue to look at him. He is younger than you, you can tell, but probably only by a year.

"_Summer jobs_," you think to yourself. "_I wish that I had one, sometimes_."

The clerk, whose name is Nevin, rings up all of your things, and gives you the total.

"Forty-five seventeen," he says, placing everything into a bag.

"What?" Kitty shrieks, coming up behind you. "How did manage to keep it under fifty?"

"Simple," Jubilee informs her, with a snap of her gum. "The girl hasn't been out to shop in a while. She needs to get herself into it a little bit more, before she can charge up the dough."

You laugh, and hand Nevin a fifty dollar bill. He gives you your change, and you give him a smile.

"Thanks, Nevin," you say, and throw in a wink. You feel bad for the guy, since he is stuck behind a counter all day long, and for the simple fact that he still has to ring up Kitty's purchases, so the wink seems like an uplift for him. You pull your bag off of the counter, and he hands you the sales receipt, along with a huge smile.

"Have a nice day," he calls, as you and Rogue exit the store.

"What?" you ask, looking at her empty hands. "You aren't buying anything?"

"You winked at him, didn't you, (you)?" she accuses, playfully, completely ignoring your question.

"So?" You don't see what is wrong with it; just because you don't _know how to spend_, doesn't mean that you don't know how to flirt.

Rogue looks at you, and raises an eyebrow, quizzically. "So, what about John?"

The question brings you to a sudden halt. "What about him?" you ask, as if you don't have any idea what she means.

"Don't you like him?" Her tone has become serious, even though she is now whispering.

You take a minute, and register the question in your head. Of course you like him. If you didn't, would you have been doing so much flirting, and grabbing his hands, and everything else that you had been doing over the last few days? Then, there was the kiss, but, you weren't sure that you should mention that last bit to her. After all, it _was_ a pretty private thing, and John _had_ pulled away rather quickly. Maybe he had wanted to kiss you for a while, but that didn't mean that he liked you.

"_He's probably hanging over a counter, somewhere in the food court, flirting with a waitress right now_," you think to yourself. You look back up at Rogue, who is still waiting for an answer. "I don't think that he likes me in that way," you inform her, casually. She gives you a strange look, but, before you can ask, Kitty and Jubilee are running up to you, and Kitty starts talking.

"Let's go find the guys," she suggests, taking you by your right arm, and leading you deeper into the crowded mall.

...

"Of course I like her, Bobby!" John says, using his most "_are you that blind_" look. "I just don't think that she likes me."

"Come on, John!" Bobby is laughing, almost teasing John with the topic. "Even _you_ should be able to see that she does!" He looks at him best friend, just wanting to bring him to find you, and set the record straight. "The girl gave you a massage, John" he whispers, not wanting to draw attention to himself for speaking loud enough where the entire city Westchester could hear him. "(You) likes you, John!"

John bites on his bottom lip, in thought, for a moment. Sure, you had given him a massage, and he had kissed you, but, to John, all of that was circumstantial, at best. It doesn't mean that you are interested.

"No, man," John says, heading for the music shop a few feet away. "With (you), it's a whole new ball game."

"Never thought of you as one for cliche's, John," Bobby teases, jabbing John in the side with his elbow, as he follows his friend into the music shop.

"If the occasion calls for it," John mutters, barely audible. "_I find myself doing a lot of odd things, lately_," he thinks to himself, the first completely honest thought that he has had about himself the entire day.

Picking up a CD from the nearest rack, John scans the back, looking for anything good. He places the CD back in its previous spot, and moves on, not waiting for Bobby to catch up to him. There are certain things that he just doesn't want to talk about, today, and you are at the top of the list, as far as relationships go. He knows that he likes you, and has actually admitted it to Bobby, but he just can't find it in himself to ask you if you feel the same way. The will is there, but the courage isn't, and it is eating him alive, because, as he knows, the courage will most likely never be there.

"John," Bobby calls, joining his friend in the New Releases section. Gesturing with his right arm, he turns John around, as he points outside. "There are the girls." He looks at John, and notices his friend's instability, when he takes a huge gulp. "Just talk to her," Bobby suggests, pushing on John's back a little bit.

"I can't," John breathes, shaking his head. "Not about that."

Without another word, John recollects himself, as best he can, and strides off to the Rock section, disappearing behind a display, just as you and the other girls catch sight of Bobby, and enter the store.

* * *

Author's Note: There you have it! Another chapter! I'm still not where I want to be at, but, as I see it, I will get there soon enough! Hopefully, it will be within the next chapter or two! You flirted with the cashier, but, it was innocent! I promise! You felt bad for him, so you were just being nice. I'll let you in on something: Kitty did the same thing! Well, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! As always I look forward to your thoughts! There might be another new chapter up later today, as I have the computer for a while, but, as always, we'll see! Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter...


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